


기억을 걷는 밤 (Walk On Memories)

by exohousewarming, wistfullywishing



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Best Friends, Chinguline (EXO), Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Happy Memories, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Sex, Photographs, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 23:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exohousewarming/pseuds/exohousewarming, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfullywishing/pseuds/wistfullywishing
Summary: Prompt number:469Warnings:mild sexual contentSummary:While unpacking in their new apartment, Baekhyun finds a photo album, and he and Jongdae go through it, looking back at the highlights of their relationship.





	기억을 걷는 밤 (Walk On Memories)

**Author's Note:**

> **Author Note:** First, before anyone else, infinite thanks to my wonderful beta. The past few weeks have been really stressful, and I could not have had the strength to write this without your constant encouragement, love and support, especially since I've never written anything this long before. Thank you for being a friend before being a beta  & for always being by my side. I LOVE YOU.
> 
> Second, thank you so much to the mods who were so sweet and helpful during this whole process. This was my first fest, and it was such a great and fun experience, will definitely be doing this again!
> 
> Third, thank you to everyone who reads the things that I write; it means so very much to me :)

“Wow,” says Baekhyun, heading straight for their old couch in their new loft apartment and flopping face first onto the familiar synthetic microfiber. “I’m so tired from lifting all of those boxes.”

“I can’t believe you,” Jongdae snaps without force, spinning around to look sternly at Baekhyun with another of the aforementioned boxes balanced precariously in his arms. “You mean you’re tired of watching Chanyeol and I lift all the boxes while you were busy bothering Kyungsoo.”

Baekhyun makes a lazy waving motion with his hand. “Eh, semantics.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes before setting down the box and moving to curl up on the couch with his boyfriend. “Move over, I’m tired, too.”

“I thought you said we were unpacking now.”

“Well, you sat down first.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m moving to get up now.” Baekhyun says as he gently pushes Jongdae’s head off his chest. Jongdae makes a whining noise that Baekhyun shouldn’t find cute but he does. _He’s so whipped._ “C’mon. Unpacking, remember?”

“Fine,” Jongdae complains as he gets up again. Baekhyun tries and fails not to smile at the adorable pouty face Jongdae is making. “Wait, how come you get to sit?”

“We can order Chinese takeout after,” Baekhyun promises, pressing a quick kiss to Jongdae’s lips and effectively dodging the question. It’s answered with a smirk when he pulls a box between his legs and reaches for the scissors that Jongdae left on the coffee table to cut away the tape holding it together.

“Cheater,” Jongdae mumbles under his breath as he crosses the wooden floor. Then, louder, “Okay, but only if you pay.”

“Jongdae, you do realize that we technically share money, right-”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Jongdae interrupts loudly from the window, where he’s drawing the blinds. The white curtains are thin and light enough that most of the afternoon sunshine comes through anyway, but it’s softer, casting the mostly empty living room in a warm golden glow. “I can’t hear you!”

Baekhyun’s about to snipe back but the words die on the tip of his tongue as the contents of the first box are unveiled. At the very top of the box is a small, square-shaped canvas-bound book, its spine creased from constantly flipping its pages. “Hey, Jongdae. Come look at this.”

“What is it?” Jongdae asks, footsteps echoing softly in the room as he walks back towards the couch. He’s at Baekhyun’s side in an instant. “Oh, _wow_. I almost forgot about your photograph-hoarding phase.”

“No, you didn’t.” Baekhyun gives Jongdae a pointed look, hands brushing the dust off of the cover of the photo album. He _knows_ Jongdae hasn’t forgotten all of the tasks he made him do to help when he was still a photography major, and even though he’s past that stage of his life now, Baekhyun still takes photos often enough with his professional camera, preferring to document all special occasions with glossy images that he later arranges into frames.

“Okay, you’re right,” Jongdae admits, “but I haven’t opened that album in ages.”

“Me neither.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Jongdae pokes Baekhyun’s side as he settles on the couch next to him, feet automatically tucking to the side. “Let’s see what’s in it.”

Baekhyun flips the book open. Tucked into the plastic protector on the first page is a shaky, somewhat blurry photo of Jongdae with his hands on Baekhyun’s face, kissing him square on the mouth like their lives depend on it (probably did, at the time). It was taken from either Chanyeol or Kyungsoo’s phone, no doubt.

Baekhyun bursts into delighted laughter as soon as he recognizes the background. “Do you remember this day?”

“What do you mean do I remember?” Jongdae exclaims loudly. “How could I forget? You practically coerced me into kissing you!”

“I did not! It was the circumstances!” Baekhyun argues back, but there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes that belies his words.

\---

“Quick, kiss me,” Baekhyun hisses into Jongdae’s ear, pulling his attention away from the lovely Renoir painting hanging on the wall. Jongdae makes a scandalized expression at his best friend. “Wait, what?”

They’re at the SeMA - Seoul Museum of Art - because Baekhyun is a photography student and claimed that he needed inspiration for one of his projects. He’d begged and whined and otherwise annoyed everyone until they finally agreed to accompany him.

“You heard me,” Baekhyun whispers in a low voice, flicking his gaze at some spot behind Jongdae. “Please, Jongdae, that’s my ex over there with that blonde guy- _No you idiot don’t look now_ oh my god he’s so pretty- and I really need to look like I’m not a single loser-”

“Okay, okay,” Jongdae whispers back with a roll of his eyes. One day Baekhyun is going to make him roll his eyeballs so hard that they’ll get stuck staring at the back of his head, and then Baekhyun will be sorry. “The things I do for you.” Jongdae clears his throat. “So how are we doing this? Do you want me to just-”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re walking closer- I’ll let you know when he looks over here-”

Jongdae glances over to where their other best friends, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, are arguing over the merits of the Impressionism Movement. “Should we give them a heads up?”

“I don’t think there’s any time- oh my god he’s looking over here okay do it-”

“Wait, _now-_ ” Jongdae turns back, panicked.

“Trust me on this, Jongdae, please,” Baekhyun says with more urgency, grip tightening on Jongdae’s wrist. His eyes dart over Jongdae’s shoulder. “He’s coming over here- he’s looking _he’s looking quick kiss me_ NOW-”

“Okay, fine!” Jongdae does exactly as asked, hurriedly grabbing Baekhyun’s face in his palms and planting a kiss on him. It’s not bad, even if Baekhyun’s lips are kind of dry, and he’s pulling away with a thought of how good of a friend he is and how lucky Baekhyun is to have him when Baekhyun yanks him in closer and deepens the kiss.

Jongdae’s brain short-circuits with thoughts of _what the hell is happening_ , but he's not complaining at all. His ears can vaguely register someone shouting.

“HOLY CRAP THEY’RE KISSING,” Chanyeol yells, tugging on Kyungsoo’s sleeve and attracting the attention of everyone in the room, including the security guards, who look more than ready to escort them out. If Baekhyun’s ex hadn’t seen them before, he definitely has now.

Kyungsoo shoots Chanyeol a glare and claps a hand over his big mouth. For someone with working eyes, it's not even a surprising revelation, making Kyungsoo wonder just how blind Chanyeol actually is, considering they all live together. “ _Shh_ , you’re making a scene.”

“Okay, but _Kyungsoo_ , take a photo!” Chanyeol shrieks into his hand.

Kyungsoo groans but indulges Chanyeol. His arm shakes because of Chanyeol’s overexcited yanking and so the photo comes out blurry, but he’s not retaking it.

Of course, after they leave the museum, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo turn expectantly to Baekhyun and Jongdae for an explanation. “Jongdae is a lame kisser,” Baekhyun says by way of clarification, and Jongdae shoots him an exasperated look and tells the whole story to their friends, starting with the ex and ending with the kiss.

*

Baekhyun thanks Jongdae later on the way to the living room where Kyungsoo is waiting to help him with calculus, his hip propped against the doorway to Jongdae’s room. “You know, I didn't mind that, though. I lied. You're actually a really good kisser.”

Jongdae laughs without looking up from where he’s folding his clothes and shoves a sweater in the dresser to hide the quickening of his pulse. His heart is beating so hard in his chest that he worries Baekhyun can hear. “Hah, you think so?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun murmurs, then steps in the room uninvited and walks closer to Jongdae. “I kind of want to do it again.”

Jongdae swallows nervously. “So what's stopping you?”

When Kyungsoo walks by Jongdae’s room a few minutes later to see what’s taking Baekhyun so long, he wishes at once that he didn’t.

“What’s your excuse this time?” Kyungsoo yells at Jongdae and Baekhyun, the former of which has the latter pressed against the wall where they’re trying to suck each other’s souls out through their mouths. “I knew this wasn’t going to be just a one-time thing even if you idiots didn’t, but _god_ , please give a warning next time! Now excuse me so I can go BLEACH MY EYES.”

\---

Jongdae falls into pieces at Baekhyun’s spot-on imitation of Kyungsoo, who’d found them in quite a compromising position. Their laughter bounces off of the walls and rings loudly through the empty apartment, wrapping them in their own bubble.

“No, really,” he says after he’s wiped his tears away. “I’m glad we ran into your ex at the museum that day, though.”

“Me, too,” agrees Baekhyun softly, tilting his head and looking down at his boyfriend, who’s leaning on his shoulder. “We were kind of idiots about each other, weren’t we?”

Jongdae snorts inelegantly before reaching for Baekhyun’s free hand and tangling their fingers together. “You say that like you’re not still an idiot.”

He has to dodge a swat from Baekhyun. “Jerk,” the other says.

“You love me anyway. Turn the page.”

Baekhyun does as directed and flips to the next photograph.

\---

 _Click._ Pause. _Click._ Pause. _Click._ Pause.

“Baekhyun, what are you taking pictures of this time?” Jongdae asks his boyfriend without looking up from his textbook, more as an automatic reflex than because he’s actually curious, although he is now. He’s used to the sounds of Baekhyun’s Polaroid camera working as the photography student snaps random shots of the details in everyday life that his artistic sensibilities absolutely must capture on film.

Besides, he likes hearing Baekhyun explain the qualities that catch his eye. Jongdae himself might not be able to tell the difference between what’s considered true art and what’s dubbed high-quality bullshit, being a computer science major, but it’s fun to learn.

He loves hearing the animated rise and fall of Baekhyun’s voice when he talks about the aestheticism of well-proportioned frames just as much as his favorite song; he loves seeing the glimmer of interest in Baekhyun’s eyes when he argues that the background is just as important as the subject matter; and he loves feeling how Baekhyun’s passions have helped Jongdae slow down and see the world around him with more gentle appreciation and attention to the finer characteristics in pure creation. He loves it all.

“Just the new furniture,” Baekhyun says innocently, bringing Jongdae out of his thoughts. “Close-ups make the cherry-lacquered finish look really nice.”

Jongdae hears the click of the camera again. “Oh yes, now _that_ one is true art,” Baekhyun declares proudly after a moment when he snatches the strip of film that comes out of the camera slot and warms it up with the heat of one palm.

“Oh.” Jongdae waits for more details, but there are none. He’s having a bit of a hard time focusing on his book with the constant clicking of the camera.

_Click._

A thought occurs to him all of a sudden and Jongdae slams his book shut and looks up with narrowed eyes just in time to catch Baekhyun with his polaroid trained directly on Jongdae’s disheveled self. Baekhyun lowers the camera and freezes instantly, caught.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” Jongdae asks, disbelieving. Then he spies Baekhyun’s small stack of photos that he’s been placing on the desk in between where Jongdae’s leaning on the bed and Baekhyun is standing by the window (in order to grab the best lighting, of course). Another thought occurs to him.

The exact same thought must occur to Baekhyun at the exact same instant because he lunges for the desk at the exact same moment that Jongdae himself flurries into action, scrambling on his hands and knees across the mattress to reach the stack before Baekhyun does.

Sure enough, none of the pictures are of their new furniture. There’s the bed in the background, yes, but the focus of the pictures are closeups of Jongdae: his hands curling delicately around the hard edges of his textbook (pretty nice), the side profile of his face staring at the words on the page with an unguarded intensity (he didn’t even know that he looked like that while studying), a tight crop of his shoulder and collarbone (he won’t question it). They have artistic merit when it comes to photography.

Jongdae spots the last photo in Baekhyun’s hands just as his boyfriend moves to hide it behind his back.

Baekhyun caught him off-guard. In the photo, he’s leaning back against the headboard of their new IKEA bed with slept-in hair and no shirt on, raking a hand through his messy fringe (recently dyed a light brown). All of his attention is concentrated on the textbook in his lap. It’s a full body picture. It’s hideous.

“DELETE IT,” Jongdae screeches, knocking Baekhyun onto the bed and wrestling with him to try and steal away the strip of film that his boyfriend is protecting with his life.

“NO,” Baekhyun shouts back just as loudly, rolling them over and sitting on Jongdae to keep him pinned down. He twists his upper body away and holds the polaroid film just out of reach of Jongdae’s grabby hands. “It doesn’t work like that, stupid; I already took the photo!”

“Then burn it!” Jongdae screams while thrashing wildly, still trying to snatch it away. He’s considering just throwing Baekhyun off and then punching and knocking the lights out of him if it means he’ll get the stupid photograph.

“Why?” Baekhyun whines, wrapping his arms around Jongdae to stop him from moving and sagging his entire weight against him as extra security. “You look so good!”

“No, I don’t! Byun Baekhyun, I swear to god if you don’t throw it away _this instant-_ ”

“I wanna keep it! It’s cute!” his boyfriend protests into the crook of his neck.

After much arguing and altogether too many rounds of negotiations, Baekhyun manages to convince Jongdae to let him keep the Photograph Without Merits. Jongdae grouses about it to Chanyeol in the mornings for a week, Kyungsoo in the afternoons for close to a month, and Baekhyun himself during the nights when the other is getting ready to sleep for nothing short of a full year.

\---

Jongdae makes a mental note to sneak back and steal the polaroid out of the album when Baekhyun isn’t looking and then hide it away where his boyfriend will never be able to find it again.

One quick glance at Jongdae’s devious expression tells Baekhyun all he needs to know: one, that Jongdae still thinks that he looks silly in the photograph and two, that he will definitely try to destroy it later when Baekhyun’s back is turned. When Jongdae turns to look at a notification on his phone for a moment, Baekhyun reaches into the plastic protector and snatches the photo out. He shoves it into the pocket on his hoodie and flips to the next page just as Jongdae is placing his phone face down on the couch next to him and turning his attention back to the album in Baekhyun’s lap.

There are too many photos that came to exist as a result of wild parties during their college days. Baekhyun flips past a photo of him and Chanyeol in matching ugly-ass plastic shirts (what were they thinking?), a selfie of Jongdae and Kyungsoo making peace signs, and a photo of all four of them holding microphones at a karaoke machine, taken at a time when Baekhyun’s hair was so long that it almost covered his eyes and Chanyeol’s was dyed an eyeball-burning shade of bright red (“The Ronald McDonald,” Kyungsoo liked to call it).

There’s a photo of Chanyeol passed out on the floor and surrounded by empty beer bottles that he and Jongdae have a good laugh over. Baekhyun hurriedly skips past the next section full of zoomed-in iPhone shots of himself making derpy faces and finally pauses on a snapshot of Jongdae triumphantly holding up a dirty game card.

“I can’t believe Kyungsoo still holds a grudge over that one time I beat him at _Cards Against Humanity_ ,” Jongdae grumbles. “I’m convinced that he always over-salts my kimchi spaghetti every time he cooks because of it.”

“Only because you’re the only one to ever have beaten Kyungsoo at that game, my smart boyfriend,” Baekhyun says sweetly, leaning his body into Jongdae’s side and barely suppressing a snicker as he presses a kiss to Jongdae’s cheek.

\---

“Okay guys! Last card,” Chanyeol calls as he reaches for the stack. “Whoever wins gets to bow out of paying for apartment necessities and all expenses for the next two months. And they also get the pleasure of bragging about their skills until Christmastime.”

“We all know Kyungsoo’s going to win _again_ ,” Baekhyun whines, sending an exaggerated glare across the table at Kyungsoo. “You’re a horrible, horrible human being.”

Kyungsoo cups his hands around his mouth in a poor imitation of a megaphone and whispers loudly, “They don’t call me ‘Satansoo’ for nothing, Byun Baek.”

Jongdae tries and fails to hide a loud snort behind his cards. Baekhyun turns sharply to his boyfriend and hisses “Traitor!” in a low voice before delivering a well-aimed kick at his leg under the table, earning a pinch to his side. After sharing a look with Chanyeol, Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at his friends’ childish antics and mutters under his breath about how he lives with five-year olds.

“What does the card say?” Jongdae asks Chanyeol, shifting his chair a few inches away from Baekhyun and towards Kyungsoo’s side of the table.

“‘Next from J.K. Rowling: Harry Potter and the Chamber Of BLANK,’” Chanyeol reads off of the black card, then arches his brows at the others. “Anyone got anything good?”

Two minutes later when Chanyeol looks at the group’s submissions, his eyebrows disappear into his hairline. Deftly plucking the middle card out from between the others, he flips it over and holds it up. “Okay, which one of you terrible people put down ‘Tentacle Porn’? Kyungsoo, I swear to god… A children’s book!”

“It wasn’t me!” Kyungsoo says defensively. “Though, now I kind of wish it was.”

“Wasn’t me either,” says Baekhyun slowly, looking around the table. “So that means… Jongdae? Seriously?”

“Guilty,” Jongdae admits, looking down at his cards and fighting off a furious blush creeping up the side of his neck. Kyungsoo’s eyes widen.

“ _Jongdae_ played that card? Holy shit, Baek, you’ve corrupted him.”

“I’m going to pretend you meant that as a compliment.”

“Guys, shut up and count your cards,” directs Chanyeol. “I have seven and Kyungsoo has twelve. Baek?”

“Two,” affirms Baekhyun, holding up the correct number of fingers. Jongdae silently laughs at Baekhyun and counts his cards, flipping through them with ease. He frowns. He counts again.

“Well?” asks Kyungsoo. “I’m not getting any younger over here.”

Jongdae looks up. “Thirteen,” he declares, a slow smirk spreading across his features. He takes immense pleasure in the way that momentary shock makes Kyungsoo’s jaw go slack before his friend schools his expression into a more serious one.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow. “No way. Give me those.” He holds a hand out for Jongdae’s cards.

Jongdae does, passing over his stack, and watches smugly as Kyungsoo lays them all out one by one and it’s proven that Jongdae indeed is the winner.

“I can’t believe you won with ‘Tentacle Porn’ of all things!” Kyungsoo grouches, storming to the kitchen for another beer.

“You won last time with ‘Demonic Possession’ combined with ‘Daddy Issues’!” Jongdae yells back at his friend. “This is payback for all the times Baekhyun and I had to pay for your takeout!”

“Shut up, the only good card your boyfriend has ever played was ‘Poor life choices’ for ‘This is the prime of my life. I’m young, hot, and full of BLANK’ and that was because Chanyeol thought it was a hilariously good representation of all of your lives,” echoes Kyungsoo’s voice from the fridge that his head is currently stuck into.

Jongdae looks sideways at Baekhyun. “I’m sorry, babe. I don’t have a good comeback for that one. You know he’s right,” he says. Baekhyun shrugs.

“This is so good; I have to capture this moment,” Chanyeol says with his phone in hand, climbing over the chairs to get a spot of good lighting. “Jongdae, look over here. I’m blowing this photo up and framing it in my room.”

\---

“We should have taken Chanyeol’s giant blow-up poster with us when we moved out,” mourns Baekhyun.

“I think Kyungsoo drew a mustache on it,” Jongdae points out. Still chuckling, Baekhyun turns to the next section of pictures in the album.

“Baekhyun?”

“Hmm?”

“You think if I asked, Chanyeol might still have a digital copy of that photo buried in his camera roll?”

Baekhyun snorts by way of answer and elbows Jongdae. “Jongdae, look at this one,” Baekhyun says instead, tugging on his hand, never mind the fact that Jongdae’s still curled into his side, lazily watching him flip through old but not forgotten memories. He looks at the picture Baekhyun is pointing to with one slender finger.

It’s a photo of him at the park. He’s in the middle of turning around, lips parted in surprise because he hadn’t known Baekhyun was sneakily taking pictures of him and not the scenery. Though in retrospect, he really should have known by then that of course his sneaky boyfriend would pull those sorts of shenanigans.  

\---

“Jongdae!” Baekhyun sing-songs. He spies his boyfriend lounging on the couch with his phone held above his eyes and quickly runs over, throwing himself on top of Jongdae and causing him to drop his phone flat on his face. “I want to go to the park!”

“OW,” Jongdae yells, hands shoving at Baekhyun’s butt. “God, you’re so heavy, get off of me _what are you even doing_ -”

Baekhyun parks his ass firmly on top of Jongdae’s crotch. “I’m not getting up until you promise to go to the park with me,” he pouts.

Jongdae whines. “Again? We went, like, three days ago.”

Baekhyun turns his best puppy-eyes on him, leaning down to whisper in Jongdae’s ear, his breath tickling Jongdae’s skin. “Please? I need new inspiration and subjects,” he purrs in a manner that’s way too seductive for talking about photography. The little devil _knows_ the effect that voice has on Jongdae. As if that’s not enough, Baekhyun’s got Jongdae pinned to the couch; he grinds down against his body, and Jongdae unconsciously bucks his hips up, seeking more friction.

“Stop- _stop that_ ,” he gasps. Baekhyun doesn’t cease his movements, just grinds harder, making Jongdae’s eyelids flutter. He groans and reaches for Baekhyun’s hips, forcibly pulling him to a stop. “That’s not fair, Byun Baek. You can’t just try to seduce me every time that you want something, you know.”

His boyfriend responds with a tentative lick to Jongdae’s neck, darting his tongue out and dragging it against the soft, sensitive skin there before lightly pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s jaw and meeting his gaze. Baekhyun’s eyes are dark and glitter with unspoken agreements. “I have good intentions, I promise,” he murmurs.

Jongdae glares at him, annoyed at how easily his body reacts to Baekhyun and how quickly the little voice in his head jumps to do the other’s bidding. “I really hate you sometimes.”

Baekhyun laughs easily, finally getting off of Jongdae’s disheveled form and smoothing down his own rumpled clothes. It’s a gorgeous, lilting sound. “I know.” He reaches out one hand to pull Jongdae up. “Come on.”

The entire walk to the park, Baekhyun attempts to do cute couple things, like hold Jongdae’s hand. Jongdae reacts by yanking his hand away from Baekhyun’s searching fingers and hissing viciously that he plans on throwing Baekhyun’s expensive camera into the trash as soon as he gets the chance, making sure to punctuate his threat with a tug to the camera strap hanging around Baekhyun’s neck. When Baekhyun pushes his pink (stupid) bottom lip out into a mock pout, Jongdae sighs heavily towards the sky and waits a few beats for dramatic effect - during which he feels Baekhyun’s eyes on him - before giving in and grabbing his boyfriend’s hand, tangling their fingers together in a perfect fit.

*

“Jongdae,” a voice croons, drawing his attention away from where he’s admiring the gentle ripples of the clear water below the bridge that they’re standing on. He spins around just in time to catch the wind blowing stray leaves around, to see them falling slowly to the ground in a delicate dance.

The shutter of Baekhyun’s Canon goes off.

\---

Jongdae hums contentedly at the memory of them stopping to sit in an open field of flowers the same afternoon, Baekhyun’s head in his lap and Jongdae’s fingers nimbly working to braid a long line of flower stems together into a crown before setting it atop Baekhyun’s hair. Judging from the fond look in Baekhyun’s eyes, he’s thinking of the same thing. Jongdae grasps Baekhyun’s hand a little bit tighter as Baekhyun uses his other one to turn several pages.

In the midst of all the high-quality pictures of Jongdae lying in the field of yellow-centered daisies taken with Baekhyun’s professional camera - his eyes closed, long lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks and pink lips parted just slightly, the sunlight reflecting just right off of the slope of his nose and making his skin glow - there’s a simple polaroid of Baekhyun wearing his flower crown tucked into the plastic sheet protector of the album.

Jongdae remembers that he was willing to let Baekhyun photograph him for a project only if in return he could keep a polaroid of his boyfriend bathed in sunlight, with the bright white petals of the flowers a sharp contrast to his honey-colored hair, made into threads of gold by the luminescence from the sun. Baekhyun agreed, and Jongdae went ahead and took two shots that day, one of which he still has tacked to the schedule board above his desk where he sees it every day.

In the photo, Baekhyun’s eyes are shaped into half-moon crescents and he’s beaming at the camera, drinking up the sunshine and reveling in the peaceful atmosphere. Even all of the flowers are turning to smile at Baekhyun. Baekhyun is like the king of daisies; he’s absolutely soaking up the sun’s rays and blooming under all the attention that nature is offering him.

Jongdae loves a photosynthesizing man. The thought catches him off guard and draws a startled laugh from his throat.

Baekhyun looks up questioningly at Jongdae, but before he can ask, Jongdae leans forward and meets Baekhyun’s lips with his own. He thinks of how much he wants to drink up Baekhyun who, in Jongdae’s mind, is the perfect personification of sunshine.

And just like the king’s flower subjects, he revels in Baekhyun’s happiness.

“What was that?” Baekhyun asks with amusement twinkling in his eyes when Jongdae finally pulls away. His face is flushed prettily, and he looks more gorgeous than ever.

“It's called a kiss,” Jongdae responds with a breathless laugh, giddy all of a sudden.

“Idiot.” Baekhyun shoves him lightly. “ _I meant_ , what's the occasion that’s got you feeling so celebratory all of a sudden?"

“What, I can't just kiss my boyfriend because I love him?"

“Now you appreciate me?” Baekhyun squints at Jongdae suspiciously. “I’m sure not feeling the love whenever I force you to be the subject of my photos. Are you sure you don’t just want something?”

“Nah,” Jongdae says, settling back against Baekhyun’s shoulder again and letting his eyes slip shut. “Bribing someone with physical contact is more of your thing.” His eyes don’t need to be open for him to see the smirk that graces Baekhyun’s lips.

“If it works then I have no reason to change my ways, right? Anyway, that’s it,” Baekhyun announces, flipping the album closed. Jongdae cracks an eyelid open and watches as he sets it on the bare coffee table. “For now, I mean. It’s getting kind of dark. Want to order food?”

*

When the delivery man arrives, Jongdae shoves Baekhyun aside and races to the door to answer it before the other can even get up. When he returns to the couch, he’s already got an egg roll stuffed into his mouth, the grease from it making his skin oilier by the second.

“Stop playing dirty,” says Baekhyun, wrinkling his nose as he rubs his side. “I’m the one who’s paying for this food, the least you can do is WAIT BEFORE-”

Jongdae holds his ground and reaches into the egg roll container to take another, making sure to arch a brow at Baekhyun as he does so. “Don’t tell me how to live my life,” he mumbles around the other roll in his mouth.

“Get over here,” Baekhyun snarls, scooting over to make room on the couch. At Jongdae immediately brightening up, he quickly adds, “Don’t look so happy. It’s the food that I want, not you.”

“No one will ever love you with that kind of attitude,” Jongdae mutters glumly as he passes Baekhyun the bag with their food and drops into the space beside him. He wants to ignore how Baekhyun’s arm instinctively goes to settle around his waist but can’t resist snuggling up to the other after all.

“It’s a good thing that you’re already mine, then, right?” Baekhyun asks, digging into the bag in his lap and pulling out a pair of chopsticks that he hands to Jongdae along with a carton of fried dumplings, the ones that he almost always refuses to share.

Jongdae smiles at Baekhyun’s thoughtfulness. “Only if you continue being this nice to me,” he decides. Whoever said bribery would get you nowhere was wrong. Or maybe they’d just never met Byun Baekhyun.

*

Half an hour later, the coffee table is littered with used napkins and empty takeout containers, and Jongdae is leaning back into the couch with Baekhyun’s head in his lap while the other reclines with his legs thrown over the arm of the small sofa. They’re browsing the album again, Baekhyun raising it high above his head so both of them can see. It’s slightly harder to make out the images since the floor lamp doesn’t provide the same quality of illumination that natural light does, but it still gives a nice glow.

“Aren’t your arms getting tired?” Jongdae asks, combing his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair slowly, lightly dragging his nails against Baekhyun’s scalp the way he knows the other likes it. Satiated Baekhyun is his favorite Baekhyun.

“Yes,” Baekhyun admits, turning a page. He pauses to sigh happily. “But it’s really comfortable here and I don’t want to get up.”

“So lazy,” Jongdae murmurs. A photo in the edge of his periphery catches his attention. “Wait, what was that one?”

“You lying back on our bed,” Baekhyun says, trying to go on. Jongdae takes the album from him and turns it back to the page.

“Wait, I actually look good in this one, though,” he points out, showing Baekhyun the photo. His hair is tousled and back to its natural color, standing out against their stark white sheets. Jongdae thinks he looks like a cat, all leisurely stretched out on his back over the mattress with his arms above his head and eyes closed, a smile painted on his curvy lips.

“I know,” says Baekhyun. “You look good in every single photo I take of you, Jongdae. I work magic that makes you look hotter than you actually are.”

“Hmm, when have I heard that before?”

\---

“Jongdae, stop wiggling around. You’re going to get those sheets wrinkled.”

Jongdae rolls around some more just to spite Baekhyun for making him pose for the camera again. He makes sure his hair is messy and his double chin is showing and the position he’s in resembles a starfish rather than anything remotely appealing. He hopes he looks like a dead fish, flopping around in the way that he is. It would serve Baekhyun right.

“Okay, that’s fine. Be ugly for all I care. Everyone who’s ever seen my photos knows that the only reason you look good in them is because I’m so good at what I do that I can turn _that-_ ” Baekhyun makes a vague gesture in Jongdae’s direction, “- into beauty.”

“Hey, wait a minute. I’m better looking than you.”

“Yes,” Baekhyun snaps a picture of Jongdae’s double-chinned starfish body, limbs looking more like a pile of jelly than toned muscle, to show him. “I’m sure you are, especially looking like this.”

Jongdae sees the shot on the display of Baekhyun’s Canon and wants to die. “Please don’t show that to anyone.”

“Well, I don’t know. You were the one who chose to act like a child instead of doing as I asked-”

“Baekhyun, pleeeease,” Jongdae interrupts, using his most whiny tone. “It’s because the bed is uncomfortable,” he explains in a small voice, jutting his lower lip into a pout. Baekhyun always falls for this expression. “Remind me again why we didn’t pick out a nicer one?”

“We got kicked out because Chanyeol accidentally broke a shower display and then Kyungsoo almost punched him,” Baekhyun reminds flatly of their group trip to IKEA to shop for furniture. He’s not fooled by Jongdae’s pretense of picture-perfect innocence. “Now, are you going to cooperate or am I sending this photo to Kyungsoo for him to set as his profile picture on all forms of social media?”

Jongdae’s facade drops. “ _Fine_ , what do you want me to do?”

*

“Okay, I allowed the other fake candid and all of that other nonsense on the bed… but are you being serious right now?”

“Of course,” Baekhyun says, clicking the handcuff shut around Jongdae’s wrist. He fastens the other one of the pair around the wooden rung of the laddered shelf in their bedroom. “It’s for art, alright.”

“When I bought those handcuffs, this is _not_ what I wanted them to be used for-”

“Jongdae, quit talking and look attractive,” Baekhyun directs, backing away from the shelf and picking up his camera. “Can you, like, slouch against the wall a little bit more?”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Jongdae grits out through his teeth but does as the other asks. Baekhyun pulls his camera away from his face long enough to answer. “I’m an artist, babe, and I need something arousing to inspire me.”

“This is some kinky-”

“Yes, Jongdae, _that’s the point_. I need you to-”

“You need a new boyfriend that actually listens to all of your bullshit is what you need,” mutters Jongdae, purposely making a cross face at the camera lens.

“Stop that, Jongdae,” Baekhyun’s voice warns. “Or I’m not uncuffing you, and you can just stay next to the shelf for the rest of the day.”

“These aren’t even real handcuffs, I could literally uncuff myself if I want-”

“But you won’t, because you don’t want to be denied sex for the rest of the month-”

“ _Alright_ , I’ll lean here and look sexy. Happy?”

\---

“The end results really aren’t an accurate reflection of the events that day,” Jongdae muses, trailing his fingertips over the plastic protectors displaying photos of himself with a cold, haughty expression at the camera, seemingly challenging the viewer. Unfortunately, he always ends up being manipulated by Baekhyun whenever he tries to challenge the photographer. Baekhyun is very devious.

“Not an accurate representation of my suffering in dealing with the model’s whims or the model’s real life ugliness?” Baekhyun asks as he pulls himself up into a sitting position. He gets off the couch and pads over to an open cardboard box, rummaging around until he finds what he’s looking for. Bundling the thick blanket up in his arms, he returns to Jongdae’s side with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I was getting a bit cold,” he explains, settling into Jongdae’s side and drawing the blanket up to cover their legs, which automatically tangle together under the layer of warmth. Jongdae ducks down and kisses Baekhyun’s temple before leaning his head against Baekhyun’s, side by side.

Baekhyun admires the photos of his boyfriend looking sexy for a few seconds more, tracing Image Jongdae’s chiseled features with his fingertips, stopping Real Life Jongdae from changing the page. As soon as he’s gotten his fill, Baekhyun reaches over and turns to the next photograph. A picture of Jongdae with two chopsticks stuck in his mouth and side-eyeing the camera, doing an excellent impression of a walrus, greets them.

Jongdae looks like he wants to die. Baekhyun isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry more. “Same person,” he chokes out, wheezing. “Okay.”

“I think we should throw this album away,” Jongdae states.

“No!” Baekhyun pulls the book out of Jongdae’s dangerous grasp. “Better idea: We should invite Chanyeol and Kyungsoo over to reminisce with us.” He flips the page, expecting there to be more pictures of Jongdae at his worst.

Instead, there’s a picture of an enraged Kyungsoo with messy hazelnut streaks in his hair from that time they poured hair dye into their friend’s shampoo, shaky because Baekhyun was laughing too hard, doubled over and all, to hold his phone straight after seeing the results. Kyungsoo had threatened to strangle them if the dye lasted any longer than a week. Luckily, the last remains of it had washed out the day before Kyungsoo’s birthday, and Jongdae, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol were saved from having to present their dead bodies to the youngest as a coming-of-age gift.

“Actually, never mind. Showing this to Kyungsoo might dredge up his murderous tendencies. I think he forgot that we took a picture of this incident. And he had a really nice birthday that year, too.”

\---

“Guys, stop making out on the couch and help Chanyeol blow up the air mattress,” Kyungsoo snaps at two of his best friends from the kitchen doorway. Baekhyun and Jongdae actually have _no_ shame.

Baekhyun pulls away from Jongdae’s lips long enough to reply, “Why don’t you go help him? We’re kind of already occupied.”

“Because it’s my birthday and anyway I’m already making snacks, you idiot, and unless you want to both starve and sleep on the floor-”

“Why can’t we get the couch? The air mattress isn’t very comfortable-”

“Chanyeol and I are taking the couch-”

Jongdae groans loudly like the drama queen that he is and shoves Baekhyun off of him. “Come on, Baek. Apparently, being a year older means that Kyungsoo is just going to act like more of a grandma all the time instead of only once a week.”

Baekhyun ends up bothering Chanyeol more than actually providing assistance to the whole operation, and when the mattress is sufficiently inflated, he flops down and smiles with satisfaction like he did all the work, prompting an eyeroll from Jongdae. Chanyeol sniffs loudly and goes to check on Kyungsoo, muttering under his breath about how all of his effort goes unappreciated and they’re going to miss him when he’s dead from overexertion. Being the child that he is, Baekhyun sticks his tongue out at Chanyeol’s retreating back.

When he turns to look at Jongdae with a wicked gleam in his eyes and pats the empty space beside him, Jongdae instantly hears warning bells go off in his head. Warily, he takes a hesitant seat on the very edge of the mattress. Baekhyun is on him instantly, pushing him all the way down and covering Jongdae’s body with his own. He attacks Jongdae’s neck, nipping and sucking and picking back up right where they left off.

Threading his fingers into the soft strands of Baekhyun’s hair, Jongdae arches up into his boyfriend’s touch, letting out breathy moans at the sensations electrifying his nerves and buzzing through his veins. Every inch of skin that meets Baekhyun’s lips is suddenly on fire, too hot, but the burning feels incredibly good.  

However, when Baekhyun’s hand drifts up his side, Jongdae jerks away suddenly with a small squeak. When Baekhyun doesn’t do anything other than look confused, Jongdae arches a disbelieving brow. “Seriously? I’m ticklish.”  

He regrets the admittance not even a second later when Baekhyun’s eyes light up and he asks, “Are you really?”

“What the hell Baek are you blind _how did you not know_ -” He’s cut off as Baekhyun reaches forward and tickles him experimentally. Jongdae shrieks and tries to dodge the offending fingers, “No I'm- wait- STOP THAT I’M GOING TO DIE-”

Baekhyun retracts his fingers, letting Jongdae catch his breath. When Baekhyun wiggles his hand teasingly in front of Jongdae’s face, Jongdae narrows his eyes. “I know what you're thinking, Baek, don't you even dare-”

He doesn't get to finish his threat because Baekhyun grins and mercilessly tickles him again. Jongdae screams, flailing about uselessly and screeching about how he can’t breathe, is going to suffocate, but Baekhyun doesn’t relent until Chanyeol exits the kitchen with his boyfriend behind him and yells “PDA!” upon seeing the sight, frantically backpedaling into Kyungsoo and causing him to drop a bag of shrimp chips.

Jongdae pushes Baekhyun off of him with a reserve of miracle energy and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for air. “I AM NEVER-” Baekhyun smirks at his words, “- NEVER EVER KISSING YOU AGAIN. Do you hear me? I’m ending this relationship effective immediately-”

“Ending this relationship effective IMMEDIATELY,” Baekhyun imitates, sticking out his tongue, rising from the mattress when Jongdae stands up.

“- And I’m SERIOUS this time-”

“- Do you hear that, Chanyeol? Jongdae’s breaking up with me again-”

“- Byun Baekhyun, if you say-”

“- But he’s not actually though, because me loves me with all his heart-”

“- One more word-”

“- How long do you think would last if he did, though?”

“- I swear I’m going to actually-”

Baekhyun laughs and pulls Jongdae by his t-shirt into a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Jongdae melts into the embrace, hands finding Baekhyun’s hips, but then the moment is ruined when Kyungsoo swats them both over the head with his bag of shrimp chips.

“Grow up, both of you. Honestly. At this point, even if you wanted to break up, no one else in this world would put up with either of you losers except for each other. I can’t believe my best friends are idiots.”

*

A few hours later, they’re all settled around the TV and full from Kyungsoo’s cooking, having a movie marathon. Jongdae’s lost count of how many they’ve seen, but to be fair, he wasn’t really paying all that much attention because how could he when Baekhyun is right next to him?

“I want to watch _Sympathy for Lady Vengeance_!” Chanyeol cries from the other side of the living room. Jongdae and Baekhyun can hear Chanyeol and Kyungsoo arguing about which movie to watch next, but neither of them cares enough to join in on the dispute because they’ll probably be too distracted by each other to pay attention.

“Too bad it’s not your birthday,” Kyungsoo bites back in a snarky tone, prompting a giggle from Baekhyun. Chanyeol tosses a cushion in their direction that hits Baekhyun squarely in the face, and Jongdae isn’t able to hold back a bark of laughter.

“Fuck you, Jongdae,” Baekhyun says angrily, rubbing his nose.  
“Sure,” Jongdae rolls over and settles back in their mass of pillows, looking expectantly at Baekhyun with an eyebrow raised.  
“What are you doing?” Baekhyun looks like he doesn’t quite follow Jongdae’s actions.  
Jongdae grins. “What you said.”  
“What did I… _oh_.” Despite the fact that pretty much nothing fazes him, Baekhyun still colors a little bit at the implications, but then the easy grin is back as he hits Jongdae with a pillow. “Wow, didn’t know that you were such a voyeur.”  
Jongdae grabs the pillow from his boyfriend’s hands and reverses their positions, pinning Baekhyun to the mattress with his body and placing both hands on the bed next to Baekhyun’s head, caging him in. “Should I do the fucking instead?”  
Baekhyun can’t even answer as Jongdae leans down to kiss him because he’s too busy laughing.

“Can you guys please _not_ ; some of us are trying to watch a movie over here,” Chanyeol says as he places a DVD in the player, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the blatant display of affection going on in front of his eyes. His friends try to ignore him for the most part, but they grudgingly separate and turn to the TV when Kyungsoo fixes them with a glare.  
Before the opening credits are even over, Baekhyun is already fast asleep, having worn himself out. His small form is curled up along Jongdae’s side with a leg thrown over Jongdae’s lower half and his arm around his boyfriend’s middle. Jongdae props his own head up with a pillow and winds an arm around the boy snuggled up against him, trying to listen to the dialogue going on in the movie, but he’s more preoccupied with hearing and committing to memory the soft snores that Baekhyun lets out, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale.

He makes it about halfway through the movie before exhaustion catches up to him, brought on by all his time spent fooling around with Baekhyun earlier. Jongdae’s last thought is that there’s no one else he’d rather be troublemakers with than Byun Baekhyun before he succumbs to sleepiness, one hand still absently stroking Baekhyun’s hair.

Right before the climax scene of the movie, Chanyeol notices that the other two members of their movie night are no longer awake. He nudges Kyungsoo, who - upon seeing Baekhyun and Jongdae passed out on their air mattress - sighs heavily and gets up. Kyungsoo considers shaking them awake just for the hell of it, but when he silently makes his way over to his sleeping friends, he ends up tugging their blanket back up over them instead. While he’s at it, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and takes a photo of the couple sprawled all over each other. Chanyeol will want it later.

“Honestly,” Kyungsoo whispers when he’s tucked into Chanyeol’s lanky body on the couch once more and fiddling with the other’s fingers, rough and calloused from years of playing the guitar. “What are we going to do with those two kids?”

Chanyeol shushes him, pulling the smaller boy closer in his embrace and dropping a light kiss on his forehead. “Don’t worry about them. They always manage to take care of each other whilst still screwing up everything else that could possibly be screwed up.”

Kyungsoo tilts his head up, peeking at Chanyeol through his lashes. “Promise me we won’t ever be as dumb as them?”

Chanyeol laughs, the sound rumbling deep and throaty in his chest, sending vibrations through Kyungsoo’s small frame. “You won’t, but I can’t say the same for myself.”

\---

They look really comfortable in the Kyungsoo’s picture of them together, but Jongdae remembers with crystal clarity that he woke up in the morning with a terrible crick in his neck and a dead arm. Though, the latter might’ve been Baekhyun’s fault since he’d conveniently made Jongdae’s arm into his personal pillow for the entire night. Curse Baekhyun’s dead weight.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Baekhyun chimes suddenly, turning to Jongdae and playfully wagging a finger at him.

Jongdae hums, indicating he’s heard Baekhyun but doesn’t care enough (is too lazy) to give a proper answer.

“You’re supposed to ask what,” Baekhyun complains. “Humor me.”

Jongdae does. “What am I thinking?” he asks with a roll of his eyes and a fond smile.

“You’re thinking about how much you love me and how thankful you are for my existence.”

“Not quite.” Jongdae tells Baekhyun what he was really thinking about just then. At the exaggerated frown that pulls down the corners of Baekhyun’s lips, he quickly assures the other, “You’re not wrong in assuming the truth in that statement, though. I was going to think about that right after.”

Baekhyun pouts. “Sure.”

Slipping his hand around Baekhyun’s body and down to rest around his hips, Jongdae gently pats his boyfriend’s side and redirects his attention back to the photo book, open to an image of Jongdae biting into a peach from one of their picnic dates, the ones usually complete with food packed by Kyungsoo. “But then again, I’ve always been more open with expressing those feelings than you.”

\---

Jongdae takes a large bite into his perfectly ripe, golden peach, his teeth tearing easily into the fuzzy skin, and tries not to grimace as the juices run down his chin and leave his fingers sticky.

When Baekhyun is done with taking snapshots from several different angles, he lowers his camera and hands out a napkin. As Jongdae is reaching for it, though, Baekhyun changes his mind and crawls across the picnic blanket on his knees instead, stopping close in front of Jongdae so he can dab the paper against his skin.

Jongdae smiles and closes his eyes, tilting his chin up and preening under his boyfriend’s attention. Baekhyun snorts, but he still drops a chaste kiss on Jongdae’s cheekbone before settling back on his heels.

“No,” says Jongdae, brows furrowing as he leans forward slightly, chasing Baekhyun’s open endearment. “I want a real kiss.”

“Too bad,” Baekhyun simpers. He doesn’t say anything further, just watches as Jongdae huffs and takes another bite into his peach.

Jongdae arches a brow, trying to mumble around a mouthful of fruit. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” says Baekhyun innocently, considering. He waits until Jongdae swallows and takes another bite, before saying-

“I love you, that’s all.”

Jongdae chokes.

He swallows the wrong way and the fruit gets momentarily lodged in his throat before it goes down with a severe bout of wheezing, hacking, and coughing. He reaches blindly for water and prepares for death and meanwhile, Baekhyun doesn’t even look concerned, the asshole, _he totally did that on purpose_ -

“You know how people in films always choke on their bite of food or water or whatever when someone says something unexpected?” Jongdae starts conversationally. “Well, I didn't think that was a real thing because I've never seen it happen in real life, but I just almost died eating a peach, so it's safe to say I'm a believer now.” He waits a beat before raising his eyebrows at the lack of a response. “Now, what did you say?”

“You heard me,” Baekhyun replies, amused, and Jongdae can’t deny it. “Why are you making it such a big deal?”

“Why am I making it such a big deal? Gee, I don’t know _Byun Baek_ , maybe because it’s not every day that your boyfriend finally tells you he loves you for the first time and actually doesn’t mean it in a _best friends_ type of way?”

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose. “Don’t make me regret letting you know,” he warns, settling himself in Jongdae’s lap and looping his arms around Jongdae’s neck. “It sounds so cliché when you put it like that.”

Jongdae’s breath hitches as he moves his arm around Baekhyun’s waist to tug him closer. “Am I getting that real kiss now? You almost killed me, you know.” He looks up with hooded eyes and what he hopes resembles a sultry expression. In his expert opinion, he deserves a good kiss for all his efforts in loving the little devil.  

Baekhyun leans forward and slots their mouths together by way of answer, kissing hungrily with everything he’s got even though they’re in a park in full public, within view of anyone that could pass by. Jongdae has no complaints.

\---

“I used to be really shy about saying it out loud,” Baekhyun comments, leaning his head on Jongdae’s shoulder. “How did you deal?”

Jongdae tries to shrug before he remembers that Baekhyun’s head is weighing down his limbs. “I could just tell, even if you never said it.”

“Cute,” Baekhyun snorts, flipping a page, but upon doing so sobers instantly. “Oh my god, this is adult content.”

He attempts to shield Jongdae’s eyes but the other only laughs and knocks Baekhyun’s hand away. “ _Ooh_ , you were right. Nice.”

The Baekhyun in the photograph is bold, at ease, and confidently lying back on deliciously rumpled bedsheets, chest bare with one finger stuck between his teeth and a thin gold chain with a small heart charm loosely lying around his neck. Real life Baekhyun looks like he’s currently in the process of cringing himself to death.

“Stop, stop, _stop-_ ” he clamors, shifting away from Jongdae’s arms and pressing his hands over the page. “Stop looking at it! Jongdae!”

Jongdae tears his eyes away from the page, smirking. “I was admiring the necklace, not looking at you.”

“Shut up,” Baekhyun mumbles, jabbing Jongdae in the ribs as he reaches over and pulls back Baekhyun’s shirt collar, revealing the chain still around his neck, gold heart nestled between his collarbones.

“You still wear it at least once a week,” Jongdae points out as color creeps up into Baekhyun’s cheeks. Baekhyun flushes pink and shakes his head, before somewhat composing himself and half-heartedly batting his eyelashes prettily at Jongdae.

“It brings out the delicateness of my features, right?” When he peeks ahead at the next photo, it’s also of himself in the necklace, fast asleep.

“So I take it that you remember the time when I got you a necklace for your birthday?” Jongdae teases, smoothing his fingers along Baekhyun’s shoulders, brushing away invisible dust.

Reluctant smile finally quirking up the corner of his lips, Baekhyun scoots back into Jongdae’s embrace and uncovers his hands from the photo of himself. “Of course.”

\---

“Hey Baek,” Chanyeol calls, talking around a mouthful of cereal. Kyungsoo gives him a disgusted look, and Jongdae doesn’t bother asking why his friend is eating cereal at lunch time. “What do you want for your birthday?”

Jongdae’s ears perk up, straining to catch Baekhyun’s answer. _Yes Baekhyun, what DO you want for your birthday?_

A smug look spreads across Baekhyun’s features. “A necklace,” he tells Chanyeol lazily, shoving a handful of oven fries into his mouth before he can be asked any more questions.

Kyungsoo looks like he’s about to call Baekhyun out on his bullshit, but Chanyeol beats him in responding. “Got it, thanks.”

*

“Wait, Chanyeol, listen to me,” Jongdae hisses when he corners his friend mid-afternoon in the hallway between their rooms. “You’re not allowed to buy Baekhyun a necklace.”

Chanyeol looks at Jongdae like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. “Why the hell not?”

“Because that’s what _I’m_ getting him,” Jongdae explains in a hushed tone. “We can’t all buy him the same thing.”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Chanyeol leans against the wall and raises an eyebrow. “Where do you even get this logic? I’m the one who asked, brainless. Think of your own gift.”

“Chanyeol, you do realize Baekhyun wasn’t even being serious-”

“How come you’re claiming first dibs on the necklace, then?”

“Because I’m the boyfriend, obviously. And it’s _because_ he wasn’t being serious that I’m going to take it seriously. Don’t question the inner workings of our relationship.”

“ _Ugh._ Fine. You losers. But you owe me, okay.”

“Okay. Now, since you have nothing better to do, you’re coming with me to the jewelry store.” Jongdae grabs ahold of Chanyeol’s bicep and hauls him to the front door, stopping to call out a “We’re heading out!” before they step outside and ignoring Kyungsoo when he yells in response, “Don’t come back!”

*

“What’s this?” Baekhyun asks on his birthday, picking up the small, plain gift bag that Jongdae put on his desk earlier. He knows without asking who it’s from. Jongdae regrets putting the bag there so soon; he doesn’t want Baekhyun to open it while he’s still in the room.

“It’s nothing,” he says, tugging on Baekhyun’s elbows and trying to maneuver him towards the bed. “Open it later.”

“But I want to open it now,” Baekhyun pouts. “And it’s my birthday, so you can’t tell me no.”

“No,” says Jongdae.

“No one likes you, Jongdae,” says Baekhyun, digging into the bag and pulling out a black crushed velvet box. “Wow, is this your way of asking me to marry you? If you do it like this when the time comes, I’m breaking up with you.”

“For god’s sake, Baekhyun-” Jongdae breaks off exasperatedly, arms reaching around Baekhyun, vainly attempting to take the box back, when he processes Baekhyun’s words and stops. “Wait. How do you know I’m going to be the one to propose? What if you do it?”

Taking advantage of Jongdae’s temporary distraction, Baekhyun spins around, pressing his back to Jongdae’s chest, and opens the box in a split second with a practiced jerk of his wrist. He freezes. A dainty gold heart charm stares back at him, threaded on the thinnest of chains.

“Told you not to-”

“Jongdae, you actually got me a necklace?”

Even though he purposely did it despite knowing that Baekhyun was joking about wanting one, Jongdae suddenly feels a hint of embarrassment, like maybe this time it’s not them just kidding around like always. He schools his expression into a weary one and hopes that it doesn’t give away his inner panic. “No, I got it for Kyungsoo. The fuck kind of stupid question-”

“Jongdae, stop being stupid for just one second _please_ -”

A loud sigh. “Never mind, it- it was just a joke anyway. Because you said-”

“Jongdae-”

“Stop saying my name like that, god-”

“- I actually love it,” Baek finishes, interrupting Jongdae’s flurry of excuses.  “I love it. Now shut up and help me put it on, I can’t reach by myself.”

Caught off guard, Jongdae obediently shuts up and does as he’s told. Baekhyun can feel his fingers trembling when they brush the back of his neck and raise the fine hairs there, but finally Jongdae manages to get the ends of the necklace clasped together.

Baekhyun turns to look in the mirror atop his dresser. He smiles and twists his body, admiring how the necklace looks at all angles, resting snugly in the hollow of his throat, the empty space between his collarbones. “ _Ah_ , it’s so cute.”

A cough. “ _You’re_ so cute.”

He looks up in the mirror to find Jongdae watching him closely. “Thank you,” he tells him earnestly, beaming. “For the present and the compliment.”

Pink still dusts the top of Jongdae’s high cheeks, but he smiles, too. “I'm glad you like it.” He takes a step closer and winds his arms around Baekhyun’s waist, then rests his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder. They stare at each other in the mirror. “It looks really good on you.”

*

Of course, Baekhyun could wear a paper bag and still look good by Jongdae’s standards, but Jongdae thinks that the necklace looks even better on Baekhyun when he’s not wearing anything else. Baekhyun hadn’t wanted to take it off (the brat) but there certainly wasn’t any doubts about what they were going to do next, and for some reason the idea of fucking Baekhyun, wearing nothing but the jewelry, had brought such a heady rush to Jongdae’s head that he’d been unable to resist as Baekhyun impatiently divested both of them of their clothing and pushed him down on the bed, even though Jongdae normally preferred to draw the process out (because what better fun is there than teasing Baekhyun?).

Baekhyun is so pretty like this, lying back in the pillows of his bed, his eyes squeezed shut and his body soft and pliant under Jongdae’s, arching up to meet him halfway. The thin gold chain slips and pools around Baekhyun’s throat as Jongdae leans down to plant a tender kiss, first on the heart charm and then on Baekhyun’s bared neck. The cold metal is a refreshing contrast from the scorch of Baekhyun’s skin.

Afterwards, Jongdae collapses in a boneless heap on top of Baekhyun, laying his head on Baekhyun’s chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his middle. He ignores the other screeching protests about the sheets (how Baekhyun still manages to talk after being so vocal during sex, he’ll never know), and Jongdae promptly falls asleep.

He’s awakened again later in the night by Baekhyun, demanding a second round. Insatiable. Jongdae doesn’t know if he has the energy for a repeat performance.

As it turns out, Jongdae does in fact have the energy for another go when Baekhyun reaches down with a gleam in his eye and strokes him to full hardness, until he's keening and gasping for more. Most of the comprehensible thoughts exit his brain after that, but he remembers thinking that if they’re too sore the next day, then spending the entire day cuddling in bed would be a valid option.

*

“Do you think they’re going at it right now?”

“Chanyeol, if you ask one more disgusting question, I swear I’ll kick you. Hard. Out of this bed.”

Chanyeol flops sideways, his feet dangling in the air off the edge of Kyungsoo’s twin-sized mattress and illuminated by Kyungsoo’s bedside lamp, the shadows making them look even more like the huge monstrosities that they are. Kyungsoo cringes at the sight as Chanyeol asks, “But do you?”

Internally screaming, Kyungsoo lowers his book. He’s definitely not getting any more work done tonight. “If the moans from earlier weren’t enough indication, trust me; they’re definitely fucking right now. Guess the necklace thing worked. Chanyeol, what do you use those big ears of yours for if not for hearing? These walls are really thin.”

In the future, Kyungsoo’s going to forbid Jongdae and Baekhyun from having sex while he’s trying to study. Maybe even when he’s not trying to study.

“Hey, Kyungsoo? Do you think we could-”

“Chanyeol, get the fuck out of my room.” Kyungsoo answers before Chanyeol is done speaking. He doesn't even want the other boy to finish that thought.

*

Jongdae wakes up first in the morning, roused from sleep by the bright sunshine filtering in through the sheer curtains. He’s on his back at the very edge of the bed, and Baekhyun is crowded all the way into his space, head buried in the crook of Jongdae’s neck and hand resting lightly on his stomach. When Jongdae lifts his head to glance behind Baekhyun’s sleeping form, he sees that there’s easily half a bed’s worth of empty space on the other side of his boyfriend.

What a Baekhyun thing to do, to hog the entire bed and on top of that, subconsciously try to squeeze Jongdae off in the middle of the night. _Why is he romantically involved with such a selfish human being again?_

Jongdae props himself up on one elbow, being careful not to disturb Baekhyun. His boyfriend’s hair flops down over his face, messy and ruffled, and Baekhyun twitches his nose in his sleep. With one hand, Jongdae carefully reaches out and smooths back Baekhyun’s stray locks, combing his fingers through the softness, while his eyes memorize Baekhyun’s features: the slope of his nose, the tiny mole above his upper lip, the brush of his long eyelashes against the tops of his cheekbones, the necklace still laying against his neck. After a moment of consideration, Jongdae reaches toward the bedside dresser for his phone; Baekhyun looks so peaceful and at ease, and he really can’t resist silently snapping a photo (he’ll show Baekhyun later, though).

He’s still stroking his hair when Baekhyun wakes up, scrunching up his nose and yawning and stretching out his limbs. “Morning,” he greets when Jongdae’s enamored look comes into focus, lips curved into a soft, sleepy smile.

“Morning,” Jongdae says back quietly, shifting his body towards the other boy. The beauty and domesticity of this particular morning hits him with the force of a tsunami wave. The imaginary sea splashes over him and douses his body, leaving behind the soaking realization that because he has his own room, it means that he doesn’t get to wake up next to Baekhyun as often as he would like (he sneaks over here often enough, but Jongdae would rather have this situation every single day).

“Baekhyun,” he asks suddenly. “Do you want to move in together?”

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun questions, scrambling to sit up. The covers slip down to his hips, leaving his top half bare. Baekhyun suppresses a slight shiver and tugs the blankets up and around his shoulders, wrapping them snugly around his body because Jongdae knows he’s unable to stand the slight chill in the fresh morning air. “You sleep in my room more often than your own room, I think.”

Jongdae stretches with all the finesse of a cat, then rolls over onto his back. Baekhyun scoots forward and leans over Jongdae, the gold chain currently hanging around his neck dangling in midair between them.

Slowly, Jongdae hooks a finger into the necklace and gently tugs Baekhyun down, his other hand going around Baekhyun’s waist to pull him closer, on top of Jongdae.

“I mean like actually,” he whispers against Baekhyun’s lips, trying not to smile at their proximity and failing. “We should just move out together and leave the extra space for Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, so they don’t kill each other.”

Baekhyun darts in to kiss him quickly but then draws back again, laughing. “You mean so Kyungsoo doesn’t murder Chanyeol.”

“Obviously.”

“Mm,” Baekhyun considers, hovering over Jongdae and tapping a finger against his lips. “How about you move into my room first so we can give living together a test run? Six months. I mean, I know we kind of already live together, but-”

“Yes,” Jongdae interrupts, agreeing immediately. “I know what you mean. Okay. Perfect.” He pauses to press a kiss against the corners of Baekhyun’s lips. “I think it's a good idea.”

“Love you,” Baekhyun murmurs without warning, ducking down to capture Jongdae’s lips again. Jongdae doesn’t say anything back because his mouth is otherwise occupied, but he doesn’t need to; they can both feel every emotion shared between them, magnified through their actions.

\---

“I’m emotional,” declares Baekhyun, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“You are so full of bullshit.”

Baekhyun laughs, a beautiful, melodic sound, but he scoots even closer to Jongdae who’s now holding the photo album on his lap until he’s practically sitting on top of him on the couch anyway. “I’m not allowed to feel sentimental?” he asks, looping an arm around Jongdae’s neck and leaning in, holding his gaze. The fingers of his other hand brush the edges of the plastic screen protector covering the picture of him.

Jongdae looks down at Baekhyun lips for a split-second, seemingly mesmerized, but then he seems to recover. “You’re not allowed to feel sentimental if you’re just trying to distract me, Baek,” he points out, gently removing Baekhyun’s sneaky hand from the open book page and interlacing their fingers.

 _Darn._ Jongdae’s gotten more observant.

“Don’t look like that,” Jongdae continues. “Like a kicked puppy. You have that ugly picture of me that I don’t like hidden in your pocket, _yes I saw you steal it_ , so I get to keep this one of you - which doesn’t even look bad, by the way. Let me have this one. It’s only fair.”  

“But the one of you looks so good!”

“And so does the one of you, Baekhyun. I promise,” Jongdae assures, bringing the back of Baekhyun’s hand up to his lips and laying a fluttery kiss there. “Don’t be shy. I love you. I’d never let you look bad.”

“Except for that time you let Chanyeol help dye my hair,” Baekhyun points out.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jongdae says. “And in my defense, I didn’t know he was going to do _that_. Also, I told you not to let him. Kyungsoo’s the one who encouraged you, because he would do anything if it means Chanyeol will be happy.”

“It _was too_ that bad. Let me refresh your memory,” Baekhyun insists, reaching to turn the page of the photo album with a warning on the tip of his tongue.

\---

“Oh god,” Kyungsoo says, stopping in his tracks and staring in horror at the top of Baekhyun’s head.

Jongdae peeks around him to look, and his eyeballs almost fall out of his head. Baekhyun’s hair isn’t the intended shade of red, but pink. PINK _._

And not even an even hue all over. His blonde color is still visible, peeking through streaks of blush here and there. It’s bad.

“What?” Baekhyun asks, still sitting in his chair with a towel draped over his shoulder. “What did Chanyeol do? Does it look bad?” Chanyeol is mouthing a frantic _don’t tell him_ behind Baekhyun’s back.

“No,” Jongdae lies.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says at the same time.

“At least it’s pretty,” Chanyeol adds, giving Kyungsoo a betrayed expression.

“What,” says Baekhyun, reaching for a handheld mirror and holding it up so he can see. “Oh my god.”

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae manages in an even tone of voice. “What did you do to my boyfriend?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Chanyeol argues. “Baekhyun didn’t tell me that he got bleach last time!”

“CHANYEOL,” Kyungsoo booms, his voice contradicting his height. “HE WAS BLONDE.”

“Why,” Jongdae says helplessly at Chanyeol’s failure to use common sense, still eyeing the mess of Baekhyun’s hair in disbelief.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whines weakly. “Jongdae’s not going to love me anymore now that I’m ugly. If I die alone, it’s on your stupidity. Actually, I’d probably steal Kyungsoo from you before I would die alone.”

“Wait a minute,” Jongdae says, at the same time that Kyungsoo makes a gagging noise in the back of his throat.

“I was only kidding, god, no need to look so disgusted-”

“Okay, all of you guys - just stop being drama queens,” Chanyeol interrupts, raising his palms up. “I wasn’t talking to you, Kyungsoo,” he amends when Kyungsoo throws him a death glare. At Jongdae he says, “Baekhyun will live. And the pink will grow out in less than a month. Maybe less since it’s already so thin and streaky. I think.”

“It better,” Jongdae glowers at Chanyeol. Poor Baekhyun, having to suffer because Chanyeol forgot that he owned and could put to use something called a brain.

At the very least, Baekhyun looks pleased that Jongdae is willing to punch Chanyeol on his behalf.

*

All four of them turn to beer in order to try and forget Baekhyun’s disaster of a dye job. “Were you serious about me not loving you anymore because of the hair?” Jongdae drowsily asks Baekhyun after they’ve both had perhaps too much alcohol to drink. It’s evident in the way that they have to lean together on the couch in order to keep from falling off. Baekhyun is idly flipping through one of Kyungsoo’s dog-eared paperback books, but Jongdae knows he isn’t really reading because he’s holding the book upside down.

“Of course not,” Baekhyun replies, grabbing Jongdae’s arm to keep him steady. “But you were right about it being a bad idea to let Chanyeol dye my hair as a birthday gift to him.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae offers. “If it helps, I still think you look cute. Mostly.”

“Mm,” says Baekhyun, closing his eyes. “Thanks.”

“I’ll always love you; you know that, right?” He just needs to make sure Baekhyun knows. The alcohol is loosening his tongue, and Jongdae leans in to kiss Baekhyun, but he misses by a few centimeters and his nose bumps into Baekhyun’s cheek instead.

Baekhyun laughs, and his breath is warm on Jongdae’s face. He turns to lightly rub the tip of his nose against Jongdae’s, exchanging light, fluttery eskimo kisses because anything else requires almost too much effort. “Even if I’m ugly?”

“Especially if you’re ugly. Then no one else would try to take you away from me.”

“... I love you too, Dae.”

Jongdae just barely manages to catch the whisper before sleep takes over and he’s in dreamland, thinking about Baekhyun’s rose-colored hair and his rose-colored lips and just _Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun,_ over and over until he can no longer tell the difference between the best friend that he fell in love with and the boyfriend that he continues to love every day. Maybe there was never any to begin with.

\---

“I love you,” Baekhyun giggles, trailing his fingertips over Jongdae’s face. He’s trying to make up for all the time during which he was too afraid of saying the words, of laying his heart bare, despite knowing for sure what Jongdae would have said back. He doesn’t need to, but he wants Jongdae to hear it anyway. Lost time is lost time.

“This hair right here,” he continues, reaching up to tug at one of the longer strands lying across Jongdae’s forehead. “Even though you used to have that terrible perm.”

“And your eyebrows.” Baekhyun traces their shape. “Even though they’re just straight lines, and this probably wouldn’t work on anyone except you.”

“Now I think you’re just trying to insult me,” Jongdae interjects. Baekhyun presses a finger against his lips.

“Shush,” he commands. “Let me wax poetic about you.”

Jongdae raises an eyebrow, but he’s fighting a smile behind Baekhyun’s finger. Baekhyun takes it as an invitation to continue.

“Your eyes are really cute whenever you smile and they do that crinkle thing at the corners from happiness,” he says truthfully, realizing that no matter what he says, it still won’t convey the depth of what he feels for Jongdae. He rushes through the rest of his words. “And your nose is really nice. And your ears are really good at listening, and also it was hot when you used to wear only one earring except I always made fun of you for it.” Jongdae looks surprised, but Baekhyun still doesn’t let him talk. “Your mouth never knows when to shut up, though, and it’s really annoying.”

Jongdae bites Baekhyun’s finger, earning a shriek and a slap upside the head for his efforts. Jongdae doesn’t even feel any pain, he’s laughing so hard, and Baekhyun eagerly welcomes him whenever Jongdae tackles him to the other end of the couch and pins him underneath, their blanket slipping halfway to the floor. He doesn’t fight off Jongdae’s onslaught of kisses to his face; in his hair and on his forehead, his eyelids and the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth and his cheekbones - the whole world is Jongdae and he wants to feel everything- every touch, every kiss- written across his skin and resonating in his bones.

But first he’s going to finish before he splits his sides from laughing so much. “Everything,” Baekhyun gasps out, and Jongdae pauses his ministrations. “I could go on and on but I won’t. It’s just- you. I love you.”

Jongdae smiles, and his last kiss lands directly in the center of Baekhyun’s lips. It satisfies both of their definitions of a “real kiss” for sure.

“I love you more,” Jongdae tells him in a playful lilt when he finally pulls away, and Baekhyun groans because _of course_ , Jongdae just has to one-up him.

*

At some point after whispering enough _I love you_ ’s to each other to last a whole lifetime, Baekhyun and Jongdae fall asleep together, draped over each other on the same couch where they had their actual first kiss (Baekhyun refuses to count the one at the museum because he claims Jongdae hadn’t “kissed him properly”). The pale moonlight sneaks in through the gap in between their curtains, bathing them in a soft white glow and illuminating the album still lying on the empty side of the couch, open to a photograph Chanyeol took at his birthday celebration: the two of them asleep in a similar position to the one they’re in now, their breathing in perfect syncopation.

In the photo, Jongdae’s lying on the couch, pulling Baekhyun over him like a warm blanket, and Baekhyun’s head is pillowed on his chest. One hand is curled loosely around Jongdae’s upper arm, as though he’s afraid Jongdae might disappear while he’s asleep, and the other is fisted tightly in Jongdae’s shirt. In black permanent marker, Chanyeol had written _AWW SO CUTE_ , and on the border of the glossy image, Kyungsoo’s small, blocky letters spell out _you guys are so in love and it's so disgusting that I want to gouge out my eyes._

When it had been Jongdae’s and Baekhyun's anniversary, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo handed them a thick stack of fat envelopes tied neatly together with string. Photo prints spilled out when the envelopes were opened. Each one had some sort of running commentary on it, and the last one was a picture of the four of them together with _THE BEST TIME OF OUR LIVES_ written on the bottom. Baekhyun had cried upon seeing it. Seeing Baekhyun cry made Jongdae want to start bawling his eyes out, too, not from sadness but from the sheer overwhelming force of nostalgia.

But in the end, he only hugged each of his best friends in rapid succession and vowed to make more memories with cute photos to match, then held Baekhyun close to his chest for as long as it took him to stop crying, occasionally pausing in order to supply him with tissues and warm drinks when necessary. After the crying and hugging, there was a lot of kissing, and then a lot of overall loving, and Jongdae knew without a doubt (not that he’d ever had doubts) that _this is what he wants his life to be forever._

After all, Chanyeol was right. Fucking things up but still taking care of each other despite it all is what Jongdae and Baekhyun do.

*

When Kyungsoo pushes open the front door of the new apartment the next morning to help his friends finish what little is left of their unpacking, he doesn’t know what he expects to find. Chanyeol’s hot on his heels and carrying the tray of muffins that Kyungsoo had thoughtfully baked, and Kyungsoo holds his breath the entire time that he enters. The couple had given them a key to let themselves in whenever with, and Kyungsoo had been mostly reluctant to use it because there was no telling what he could possibly accidentally walk upon (something horrible and life-ruining, no doubt), but he’s relieved when what comes into sight isn’t porn as he feared but rather something soft. Whatever he subconsciously expected to find, this wasn’t it.

At the same time, he’s not surprised. Neither is Chanyeol.

The lovers are curled together on the couch that they unfairly stole when they moved out of (now) Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s place. They’re fast asleep (clothed, thankfully), with a blanket tangled around their legs and Jongdae’s head lolling on Baekhyun’s shoulder. At the far end of the couch, Kyungsoo can see a photo album open to a picture from Chanyeol’s birthday last year. It’s clear what their friends were distracted by; none of the boxes that everyone (but Baekhyun) helped lift the previous day are unpacked.

And yet, the whole situation warms Kyungsoo’s heart, making something flutter inside of his chest.

“Is that my blanket?” asks Chanyeol, squinting at the fuzzy fabric covering his friends’ legs.

“They’re idiots,” Kyungsoo says fondly, by way of explanation. Chanyeol crosses over to the coffee table and sets down his muffin tray.

In the nearest open box, Baekhyun’s mini Polaroid camera is sitting innocently at the top. Chanyeol picks it up and upon making sure there’s film inside, clicks a photo of the two cuddled together on the couch.

Kyungsoo reaches his boyfriend’s side as Chanyeol takes the film strip ejected by the camera. Setting down the small Polaroid on the coffee table - cluttered with food cartons, napkins, and utensils - he waves the strip around and rubs it between his large hands. Kyungsoo watches, hypnotized, as the film quickly develops into a clear image in the heat of Chanyeol’s palm, and he asks quietly if Chanyeol has a pen.

Taking the black marker that Chanyeol produces from somewhere, Kyungsoo uncaps it and writes on the polaroid in his best handwriting, _BH + JD: new home, day 1_.

Next to him, Chanyeol’s pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of the lovers, probably so he can lord their cuteness over them later. The mere mention of it never fails to get both Baekhyun and Jongdae all worked up.

Not wanting to disturb their friends (usually boisterous and several volumes too loud - they really are made for each other - but they’re quiet this once!), Kyungsoo and Chanyeol work together to clear the coffee table. They leave the polaroid photo on the bare surface once it’s clean, along with the tray of muffins and a note announcing how they stopped by but decided to come back later in the afternoon, when Baekhyun and Jongdae are awake and have hopefully made more progress in unpacking their belongings. Kyungsoo makes sure to add “BE DECENT!” at the end, and Chanyeol underlines it three times.

Then, inspired by the gentle peace and tranquility of their closest and oldest friends, Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol by the hand out the front door and back across the hall to their own apartment. He thinks that perhaps it might be time to dig out some old photos and do some reminiscing of their own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (let's be friends on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/wistfullywishes)! ♡)


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